


Out, damned spot

by SevenCorvus



Series: Avengers 50 Prompt Table [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, F/M, Gen, Het, One Shot, Prompt Fic, gen - Freeform, or - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:40:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevenCorvus/pseuds/SevenCorvus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was blood on her hands, blood that would never come off, no matter how much she tried.</p><p>Prompt: blood<br/>Characters: Nick Fury/Natasha Romanov (can be read as gen or het)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out, damned spot

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of my NaNoWriMo project, and for the prompt "blood" on the [Avengers 50 Prompt Table](http://sevencorvus.livejournal.com/24907.html). Each of my prompt fills will be covering a different character combination and most can be read as gen or romantic, I leave it up to you to decide. I will be posting a fic a day for the rest of this month (at least). Feedback is love and will be rewarded with cookies (and smut).

There was blood on her hands, blood that would never come off, no matter how much she tried. She did not know how anyone could stand to look at her, how everyone could not see the red staining her skin. She was sure this must have been how Lady Macbeth felt, futilely trying to make herself clean. 

She never thought that she would really have a chance to try to atone, to wipe the slate clean. Even after Barton had spared her, and Coulson had chosen to back his decision, she did not really believe she would have a chance. She knew that the Director had only to give the word and she would not live long enough to try. A part of her fought the decision to turn herself in, certain it was suicide, and putting her own survival over anything else, but that part was drowned out by the need to combat the red dripping stain on her soul.

She never expected the director to spare her, never thought that he would give her a chance to do differently. Even after, she expected distrust, constant supervision; instead he put her with his best team, made her one of them. It was a gift she could never repay, a faith that she constantly tried to prove herself worthy of. For the first time in her life, she reported to someone she could trust to want her to do the right thing, to have her back in a way that none of her other supervisors ever had. Fury would not leave her in the cold; he would not send her on a suicide mission, not unless it was absolutely necessary, not unless she was aware and agreed to it.

She tried to treat it like the precious thing it was, to never forget what she had been, and what Fury had helped her become. And it was Fury she went to when she had doubts, doubts that anything would make a difference, that she would ever be able to balance out all the terrible things she had done. Clint tried to help, but there was still a softness to him that she did not have, a hidden yet still existent hope that things would be better, that they could have happiness. It was not a dream she shared. True she was determined to do better, to be better, but happiness, that was for someone else, someone who had not sinned as she had. Coulson tried to help, and though there was no one she would rather have as her handler, she knew that he did not truly understand, that he never could. He did not know what it was like to have done things you could never atone for.

Fury was different, he understood in a way that few could, recognized something in her, and did not give her empty platitudes or suggest she talk about it. Instead he tried to show her through actions, taking her on missions with him, trusting her in a way that no one who knew her true nature should. He gave her mission briefings detailing the lives she had saved, the disasters she had adverted. And it helped, not much, but slowly she began to have faith in herself, in her actions. She knew the blood would never go away, never truly fade, but when he took her hand in his, Fury never seemed to fear that it would stain him as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Title of course comes from Macbeth


End file.
